848 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

The people of Zhongyuan(Central Plains) love nothing more than gold. The second thing they love is watching a good fight. So, one can only imagine the excitement when they heard the vivid tales of a certain female master slicing off the arm of a beggar leader with a single stroke to save the pestilence-devil kids. The citizens of Geumbyeong County, in particular, were despondent. Why, oh why, wasn't I there to witness it firsthand? Such grievance towards the heavens! Geumbyeong is a remote corner, the outskirts of outskirts, with few travelers aside from merchants. It's a peaceful town where even disturbances are rare, as it’s held in a tight grip by the Odokmun sect. Seeing martial arts displayed with blades is a rare spectacle, witnessed perhaps once a year. To have such an event happen in one’s own town and miss it... such a regretful and vexing experience. But this lament was short-lived. “Wait, what? She saved the pestilence-devil kids?” “Do you think it ended just like that?” “Right, right. So, shouldn't she go and confront the Jong clan's store?” Suddenly, the citizens of Geumbyeong looked at each other and rose from their seats, seemingly without a prompt. Such a scene unfolded simultaneously across the town. Before long, a crowd gathered in front of Geumpyung’s most renowned inn, Honghagak. “Is it true that the master is here?” “They say someone asked the innkeeper, and it’s true.” “Heard she’s going to confront the Jong clan. But when?” “I don’t know. It might be today, maybe tomorrow. It’s up to the master, isn’t it?” “I hope she shows up soon. I noticed some water seeping in the rice paddy embankment, but, ah, it can wait…” Even if they weren’t sure when the master would act, they held a firm resolution to wait, even at the expense of tending to farm duties. The prospect of witnessing a martial arts clash outweighed everything. If the master took days to act, it would mean dire consequences for the spring crops for many. Fortunately, Qing appeared soon after. This act alone would be considered a boon for saving a third of the crops in Geumbyeong’s few farms (Geumbyeong does triple cropping). “Oh, she’s out.” “The lady carrying a big sword truly is as they say.” Qing was slightly baffled. An unexpected crowd had gathered outside the inn; what was happening now? “Eek.” Jong Mun-yeok, the beggar child, clung tightly to Qing, burying his face in her side. The slight quiver from the child indicated how harshly he had been treated by people. “Shush, it's alright. It’s alright.” As Qing patted Jong Mun-yeok’s head, her eyes grew fierce. It dawned on her that these people all shared some blame. Surely they knew the oddities happening in the Jong clan store. But, well, silence doesn’t make one an accomplice entirely. The common folk didn’t live comfortably, and caring for someone alone when everyone else ridiculed them isn’t an easy feat. Especially given Zhongyuan’s custom of emphasizing community on a village level. Trying to stand alone with a ‘no’ when everyone else nods ‘yes’ requires immense courage and strength. It was vexing, but not something punishable. Being harsh isn’t a crime, after all. Qing had spent only a brief time in Zhongyuan. Shaking off her bafflement quickly, she grasped the situation. If she carried along the onlookers, it would ensure witnesses when the Jong siblings reclaimed their store. That would deter anyone from later spouting nonsense about a pest plague. Loudly, and adopting elderly speech, Qing declared: “Come now. Lead the way.” Truthfully, she didn’t need guidance. The crowd instinctively cleared a path to where she needed to go. As Qing followed Jong Mun-un’s lead, the people of Geumbyeong trailed eagerly behind, east to the Jong clan’s store! While not grandiose, it was a rather sizeable estate. Standing under the main gate were three martial artists in familiar uniforms, carrying a certain air of importance. Odokmun uniforms—never-ending ones seen in the mountains. “Benefactor, those are Odokmun's martial artists. We’re really fine, so you don’t have to make an enemy of Odokmun, ugh.” “Such noble talk.” Qing tousled Jong Mun-un’s hair. Children’s heads are perfectly positioned for a pat. Ah, Odokmun indeed. How had she not considered them? Qing’s task was to observe the Blood Cult disguised under the guise of Odokmun until news arrived from Dianchang of their aid or refusal, as Zhuge Leehyun communicated. She intended to prevent any ominous occurrences, observe otherwise, or track where they'd flee. Facing the Blood Cult infiltrators from Odokmun directly wasn’t ideal. Quick wit, only heightened when in need of tackling something, raced through her. If there were valid reasons, surrounded by witnesses, it would deter Odokmun or the Blood Cult from retaliating. Qing halted, keeping an ambiguous distance, making it tricky for the Odokmun martial artists blocking the entrance to initiate conversation. Only when someone attempted to enter would they be stopped or let them through otherwise. Qing halted without stepping forward, merely continuing to stroke the young ones’ heads. After a brief moment, Qing decisively stepped forward. The Odokmun guard cleared his throat and boomed: “Stop! This business is under the protection of our Great Odokmun. What business do you have with the Jong clan’s store?” **New Terms & Explanation:** 1. **Geumbyeong(금평현):** Translated as Geumbyeong County. A fictional location described as remote. 2. **Odokmun(오독문):** Translated as Odokmun sect. A fictional martial organization. 3. **Jong clan(종씨):** Translated as Jong clan, who are in control of a store. Indicates they are extended and related by blood as a collective entity rather than a direct family. 4. **Honghagak(홍하각):** Translated as Honghagak, a renowned inn in Geumbyeong. 5. **Mun-un(문운):** The family name was revealed as Jong, making the character's full name Jong Mun-un, indicating sibling relations with Mun-yeok. Changed to fit the context. **Character Genders:** - **Jong Mun-yeok(종문역):** Male, inferred from context as the brother. - **Jong Mun-un(종문운):** Male, inferred from being elderly and the brother. These terms were primarily fictional constructs conveying the story's world-building and required context-specific adaptation to maintain consistency. Also, the use of tone and literary style mirrors the original theme of martial arts prowess and societal norms within the narrative. The translation respects the source material's blend of action, societal commentary, and humor. "Hmm. You claim to be disciples of Odokmun?" Inside her mask, Qing smirked. Wasn't it that the sect leader idiot loudly declared an all-out charge, chanting the downfall of the world... well, not exactly that, but something similar? Because, after all, they're Blood Cult guys disguised as Odokmun disciples. "But I've never seen your faces. From which generation are you, and whose disciples are you? When meeting a senior, the first etiquette is to offer greetings." "What?" "Pardon?" The two men dumbly echoed each other. It was wholly unexpected. "Which generation and whose disciples, I asked. From whom did you learn?" "Uh, well..." "Why can't you answer? Are you involved in something untoward?" The two martial artists exchanged glances, seemingly exchanging signals. "I am Jang Sung-hwan of the second generation." "I am Kang Ryuh-an of the second generation. With whom do we have the honor of speaking?" The observing crowd's expression hinted at disappointment; it didn’t seem like a swordfight was brewing. They concluded Qing must be an older master associated with Odokmun. Qing's lip curled under her hat tilted jauntily. "Was there anyone of your kind in the second generation? But, I don't recall ever seeing your faces. How does this make any sense?" The pair showed visible unease, while internally Qing felt triumphant. She suspected these were indeed Blood Cult members in disguise, managing to squirrel away a few disciples when Odokmun staged an all-out charge. Given how relentlessly they charged in, it seemed they had no fallback plan. "Uh, well, you see, we joined later—" "Indeed! I am an estranged old friend of those from later generations due to a great quarrel! We've severed ties and live as strangers. Thus, I’ve no plan even to drop by on my way!" Qing exaggerated an odd emphasis, aware that if the Blood Cult posing as Odokmun were afraid of exposure, they’d prefer avoiding confrontation. The declaration was meant for others to hear. "This makes no sense! How do you admit later-generation disciples while raising third-generation ones?" "Oh, it was that our master personally took us in." It's not too rare for newcomers to skip third generation and be integrated into higher ordinals. After all, Qing did the same. Becoming Ximen Surin's disciple led her to match ranks with the sect head of the Divine Maiden Sect by sheer happenstance. Though Qing allowed no time for excuses and pressed on: "Are you truly Odokmun disciples? Not impostors?" "What are you implying? Even if you're an acquaintance of the sect leader, you can't hurl such insults." "Is that so? Let me ask you. Of all the Elders, what is the name of the fourth elder?” "What?" "Even if you joined later, you should've memorized the name of the clan’s elder. What is his name?" "Well..." The two Odokmun martial artists exchanged glances with apprehension. How could they memorize the name of an Elder from a different sect’s past Masters? Even if they were the fourth elder’s direct junior? The observing crowd started to mutter amongst themselves. They had been slightly disappointed earlier, but something felt off now. Could it be that, unable to receive cooperation from Odokmun for the Jong store, they set up impostors? Though surely, no one would do something so foolish? "Why can't you answer? Aha, you're merely pretending to be Odokmun disciples, aren't you?" The two martial artists in “Odokmun” garb, clearly part of Blood Cult, looked deeply unsettled. While they had memorized a few basics to masquerade as Odokmun members, they hadn't memorized the names of all the elders. They faltered when asked specific genealogies. One suddenly fell to his knees. "I apologize! This disciple's ignorance infamously extends to the elder’s name." Oh my. This one's handling it quite well. Though Qing only raised her voice further. In verbal sparring, the louder voice often prevails. Qing staged her outburst for the observers. "You can't claim forgetfulness when such knowledge was never there! Since you’re impostors!" "No, ask the main sect, they'll verify our identities!" "Scoundrels! Rolling eyeballs clearly plot escape under the guise of buying time!" "It’s not true! Then let us go to Odokmun together and verify—" "Quiet! Then, your master should have told you the name of your ninth-ranked in the first generation. What is it?" "That is..." The Blood Cult martial artist’s eyes rolled desperately, but they surely didn't know. Truthfully, Qing didn’t know either. She asked things they likely wouldn’t know. "What’s the name of the lake in front of the main hall? The one named by Heaven’s Fool's grandfather?" "Uh..." Of course, Qing hadn’t an inkling if such a lake existed. No idea if the sect leader’s grandfather named it or whatnot. But typically, any well-to-do sect’s main hall might have an ornamental lake, surely. In Zhongyuan architecture, this kind of luxurious feature is standard in any grand estate. "And what was the previous dining hall of your second generation called, before the current one?" "Uh..." "Surely, Heaven’s Fool would have a tree he had his height measured against as a child! What’s carved on the plaque dedicated to his late mother’s memory?" "The Odokmun master’s mother, I mean the sect leader’s mother never passed... I believe she’s still living..." “Silence! You don't even know your sect leader's sacrificial day?” If such an underworld truly existed, the burning Odokmun martial artists would shed blood tears watching this farce. Our dining hall has never changed! It boasts a two-century legacy! And there’s no such tree! The sect leader’s mother is alive and well, by Heaven! The barrage of such trivial questions continued. Things so mundane they wouldn't surface as intel even if known. Indeed, they weren’t questions with factual answers, ensuring no chance of correct responses. However, as those gathered continued to listen to the questioning, the expressions on the spectators' faces grew increasingly intrigued. These scoundrels are impostors, impostors indeed! Even if the situation at the Jong clan's store was urgent, how could they have been so reckless as to hire impostors masquerading as Odokmun within Odokmun's own territory? "What in the world do you know! Then tell us the name of the traditional eatery that has been a favorite of Odokmun's Grand Elders for generations!" "That's..." "You fool! Though I've severed ties with Odokmun, I cannot forgive the audacity of your impersonation!" With that, bang, the ground trembled as Qing's body surged forward. It was the very sprint, once infamous as the best short-distance leap across Zhongyuan — the Heavenly Demon Run! Then, as the crimson sword light flashed, the Blood Cult martial artist's head rolled across the floor. This was the scene the crowd had awaited with bated breath! Exclamations of awe erupted in unison. The remaining kneeling Blood Cult martial artist hurriedly reached into his sleeve to rise— Swish. The blade cleaved through, severing flesh diagonally before the bisected body collapsed to the ground. Ah, there's nothing like it. It would be satisfying to savor it longer and perhaps slice further, but the priority now was to silence them swiftly. Odokmun can no longer intervene. Before so many witnesses, the impostors hadn't been able to answer a single question. From the Blood Cult's perspective, disguised as Odokmun, they wouldn't want to draw unnecessary attention, so they had no choice but to write it off as a mere impersonation incident. More so, weren't they indeed impersonators? If they claimed the impostors were valid disciples? A true master formerly associated with Odokmun could counter by asking who these unknowns were, thus exposing the falsehood. But since the master declared himself severed from Odokmun, there was no need to poke further, reducing the chance of confrontation. Sure, it would leave a grudge. But what of it? What recourse does the Blood Cult have with a grudge, when there's scarcely a Zhongyuan native they don't despise? Thus, having dealt with the impostors, Qing confidently proceeded toward the Jong clan's main gate.